


Slut Of The 107th

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Top Steve Rogers, Watersports, complete and utter filth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14813375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Steve's home on leave from the Army and while they could spend their time talking and catching up, Bucky has other priorities:  to get as much cock as he possibly can with Steve's help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mandalorianmedjai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandalorianmedjai/gifts).



> BEFORE WE PROCEED FURTHER:
> 
> Heed the tags in this, for there are some downright filthy elements to this fic, ones that I have not previously explored. Be ready for that. If you're into watersports, hooray, you're at the right place! If not, turn back now.
> 
> Now that we've got all that out of the way - I have to confess that this story was not my idea - that credit goes to Alice, who is the best sort of nasty hoe but she's lazy af (yes I said it) so I asked if I could write this story for her. After literally two years of chewing this idea over, here we are, and man, I gotta say I'm proud of the direction this story has gone in. There is a part two but I wanted to give Steve and Bucky their own chapter alone, so you have to read it first before we get to the super juicy stuff.

That the airport is so absurdly busy in the middle of the week - with college in full session - defies any sort of logical attempt at explanation.  Ithaca Tompkins is a bump in the road, a tourist stopover - and it’s not fucking tourist season. Bucky knows full well he should be in class right now, delivering the start of the final unit for the spring semester.  Dostoyevsky, his favorite author. Any other time, he’d be at the podium, with Dr. Crandall listening in the back of the room because not only does he have to so that Bucky’s credits are certified, but also because he just enjoys Bucky’s lectures so much.  Never mind that it makes Bucky nervous as hell to see that warm, insightful gaze directed towards him every time he moves on to his next point. He knows that there will be hell to pay tomorrow - if he even shows up.

Every time he hears the PA announce a flight deboarding he has to stop himself from leaping up and running to the debarking point. 

He keeps reading the text message he had gotten yesterday at 4:28 pm, while he’d been walking back to his office that he shares with four other adjunct faculty members:

Steve:  _ just touched down in Georgia, baby - be home tomorrow, can’t tell you the flight, xx _

Bucky’s coffee had slipped right out of his hand and soaked his shoes right there in the middle of the hallway - like hell if he cared.  There hadn’t been a chance to reply back, given that security surrounds Steve and his companions like a vice just barely letting them breathe.  Bucky can only guess about debriefings, post tour reports, and so on - and Bucky knows that Steve wouldn’t neglect that. Neglect isn’t in his nature, no matter what it is.

Steve is back on American soil, and very, very soon he’s going to be back in Bucky’s space.  Breathing the same air, sleeping in the same bed that Bucky’s been alone in more or less uninterrupted for the last three years.  One or two weeks at a time with Steve had come and gone with far too much rapidity. Graduation two years ago had been an empty triumph, not without Steve there to kiss him as he had walked off the stage and accepted his diploma.

Twice a month phone calls at fucking weird hours of the day have been memories that Bucky’s clung to like a life preserver, wanting to remember every word from Steve’s mouth.  Soon he can hear them in person, right next to him, and Bucky doesn’t even want to think about how long he has before Steve’s going to have to go back. Can’t help but fight for his country, bless him.  Bucky gets it, on a fundamental level, to want to do something… more.

But being an Army boyfriend has been one of the toughest trials he’s had to endure.  The first six drafts of his dissertation had been child’s play compared to this, and Bucky’s long since learned what toughing it out really means.

“C’mon, Steve, I know you’re…”  Bucky stands up and paces, his Kindle dangling from his left hand.  He would have been on a C-130 until he’d touched down in Georgia, and whatever civilian flight from there he’d booked, well… Bucky couldn’t even begin to guess.  How many flights are there from the deep parts of Army-bought Georgia to quiet, central New York?

His stomach hurts from not only anticipation but anxiety - what if the plane had been delayed, or if Steve missed the flight, or hell, he’d suddenly been asked to turn around and go back to Fort Benning?  Bucky’s trying hard not to think about that, and he drops his Kindle so that he can unbutton the sleeves of his button down and roll them up, only vaguely noticing his forearms have gotten too big to do so easily.  At least his body’s going to be in fantastic shape whenever Steve leaves - working out has become a compulsion to quell the worry Bucky  _ mostly  _ manages to keep at bay.  And yes, Bucky’s jerked off countless times now to the muscles he’s been working hard at maintaining and while he really isn’t all that vain, the reviews on Rate My Professor about the “hot Russian Lit TA” have been… good.  Bucky can stand a little bit of ego stroking.

But the only thing he wants to stroke right now is Steve, in whatever way he can get his hands on him.  He’s missed the hell out just having Steve around, doing bicep curls while he reads Robert Burns in the other hand, rambling on about how the Modernists actually learned everything they knew from the Romantics, no matter how hard they tried to deny it. Bucky’s  _ missed  _ that, so, so much that he’s hung out more with Natasha and Tony and the whole motley assortment of lit and word-junkie friends he’s picked up since he started undergrad - just to have people around, people he once considered to be  _ Steve's  _ friends and not his own. He’d promised Steve before he left for basic that he wouldn’t withdraw and wait, that he would take care of himself.

Problem is, he needs Steve, just like air for breathing or the right typeface for a paper.  Nothing is going to change that. He wants Steve in his bed, next to him at their favorite sushi place, at a party that Bucky only ever agrees to if he can have a friend to retreat into if the whole social interaction thing gets to be too much.

And who else better to do that than a 6’2” gunnie with a thousand watt smile and blue eyes so pure that they make the sky over the Catskills jealous?

Bucky’s mouth goes dry when he hears the next touchdown announced, and that they will be debarking at gate seven.  Bucky dares to hope, and picks up his valise, drops his Kindle in it, and tries hard not to run through the airport.  What a hell of a welcome that would be, if he greeted his boyfriend with a black eye and busted lip that he got from tripping over his own feet.  It wouldn’t be the least graceful thing he’s ever done in front of Steve, but it would easily be in the top ten.

And it’s not like Bucky is a klutz - but Steve seems to have this ridiculous effect on his balance that Bucky long ago stopped trying to figure out.  Besides, Steve catches him every time - even when they’re both stumble and fall down drunk. Granted it’s been a while since Bucky’s had the chance to see him in that state, but he doubts Steve has changed all that much.

There are plenty of other people waiting outside the gate for the flight to debark, and Bucky tries to stand as close to the hall leading to the terminal as he can.  He has to keep licking his lips, his mouth and throat just as dry as they can be, nervous excitement making him bounce on his feet continually. This isn’t the first time he’d been in this situation, but every time he has to watch Steve come and go takes a little bit more out of him, like he’s departing with a piece of his soul every time and it’s only whole again when Steve brings it back to him.

Bucky sees him before Steve is even looking up.

His throats closes up at the sight of him, his face tanned and his hair severely short, with maybe one day of stubble on that fspectactular jaw.  Bucky has to consciously make his throat clear, and even then his voice cracks as he calls to him.

“ _ Steve!” _

Steve’s head snaps up and Bucky moves away from the crowd so that Steve can see him, half-running sideways and trying hard not to bump into anyone.  “Buck?”

Bucky gets around a clump of what looks like exchange students and start to run properly towards Steve, his heart already threatening to split in half so that Steve can hold half of it in his hands and feel just how fucking much Bucky’s missed him.  “Steve, baby, I’m…” He nearly gets “I’m here” out except moving his feet is a lot more important right now, and once Steve sees him he’s parting the crowd before him, drawn to Bucky like a magnet.

He doesn’t even try to hide the tears as he leaps the last foot, right into Steve’s arms.  Steve’s laughing and crying so hard that his whole body shakes, burying his face in Bucky’s neck and spinning them, his army duffel dropping to the ground.  Bucky’s never, ever letting go again, not even if the government comes and tries to pry them apart.

Steve does eventually set him down, but his arms stay tight around him, rocking him back and forth and squeezing.  Bucky’s senses are overwhelmed, the smell and feel of Steve in his arms sending his brain into a tailspin, convinced that if he opens his eyes it’s just going to be another one of those hyper-realistic dreams that have become standard fare since Steve enlisted.  He has so much to say to him, so much to tell but he can’t make anything else work right now except to hug Steve back ten times tighter than Steve is hugging him.

A gentle murmur that probably is louder than Bucky registers is what makes him finally look up, into the very real, present smile on Steve’s face.  “Bucky, I gotta pee, you… you have to let go, okay?”

Bucky laughs and wipes his eyes, sliding his hands up to Steve’s face and cupping his cheeks.  “We… okay, yeah, we can go. Just…”

Dipping Steve backwards enough to kiss him is no easy feat but he manages it, and Steve honest to God  _ swoons  _ as Bucky cradles the back of his head.  Trying to keep the kiss civil flies out the window when he feels the tip of Steve’s tongue touch his lips, and Christ, Bucky wants to taste and feast too, then live inside Steve for the rest of their lives.  It hits him about five seconds later that it’s been nine fucking months since they had had the chance to be intimate with each other, and the massive gulf of emotional longing is widened even further by the physical.

Bucky can’t decide which is the more powerful feeling right now, the overwhelming relief of having Steve home again or the need to get him naked as soon as fucking possible.  

Steve gets himself upright and threads his fingers through Bucky’s, his skin rough and hardened against Bucky’s; you pick up a pretty good set of calluses in the desert, Bucky’s found out.  “I… thanks for coming for me.”

“And let Nat and Tony kidnap you before I got the chance to see you?  Like hell.” Bucky knows he’s gotta let Steve go and relieve himself but he needs twenty more seconds to make sure this is reality.  “Don’t think it would look good if I left you hanging, do you?”

Steve just smiles and kisses him again, making Bucky flood with relief all over again.  They’ll find their words later, after the shock of seeing each other again has worn off.  He’s still crying but it’s manageable now, enough to where he can function and actually do something about getting them home.  Well, Steve can drive, if he wants to.

They head for the restroom, the line spilling out into the hallway it’s on.  Bucky leans over and rests his head against Steve’s shoulder, noticing the tension with which Steve is holding himself - it must have been a longer flight than anticipated.  “I hate to ask but.. How long, Steve?”

“Two hundred and forty hours - uh, ten days.”

That’s about eight days longer than Bucky was expecting, and it almost makes him start crying all over again.  “That’s… fuck, Steve that’s plenty of time for…”

“Whatever we want, Bucky.”  Steve kisses the top of his head and tightens his grip around Bucky’s shoulders, the material of Steve’s fatigues rough under his cheek.  He’s already imagining the way the skin of Steve’s chest is going to feel under his cheek - and he tries to will the bunch of guys ahead of them to move faster, but some bodies are more fickle than others and there’s not a damn thing Bucky can do to change that.

“Christ, Buck, I gotta piss - there another bathroom around?”  Steve keeps licking his lips and shuffling his feet and Bucky looks around, unwilling to part contact with him but hell, he gets it.

“Other side of the terminal - you gonna make it?”

Steve groans, and looks at the line ahead of him.  “No.”

He grabs Bucky by the arm and heads for the doors, forcing Bucky to step lively.  They dodge and weave through the crowd towards the exit and thank God it’s not that huge of a parking lot, because Steve spots his truck fast (a nice little touch, if Bucky says so himself) and heads for it, the nose parked towards the woods.  Steve lets go of Bucky and faces the trees, and Bucky can’t help but be turned on by the moan of relief Steve lets out as he listens to the strong, hot trickle hitting the grass and leaves beyond the parking barrier.

It isn’t a thing, Bucky swears it isn’t, convinced that it’s the knowledge of Steve touching his dick while Bucky tosses his duffle in the bed and tucks his valise behind the driver’s seat, not at all that it’s him on his knees and a hot stream of piss hitting his face after Steve fucks his mouth and comes all over him.

With the way Bucky’s cock bones right up at that image, he knows damn well that’s a thing, and one that he’s going to keep from Steve until the moment is more appropriate.

But it still doesn’t stop him from sneaking up behind Steve as he’s zipping up and groping him through his pants, catching him just in time to get his fingers in the fly and feel the skin-warm flesh of Steve’s cock in his underwear.  “Is it too soon?”

Steve turns his head and takes Bucky’s mouth in a filthy kiss, and no, it definitely isn’t too soon.  Bucky moans as Steve shifts them and presses him against the bumper, one muscled thigh keeping Bucky’s legs kicked open and the cotton of his chinos stretched.  There’s no hiding his arousal now, and Bucky knows damn well that Steve can feel it.

“You were just watching me, weren’t you?”

Bucky nods as Steve’s hand slides down his belly and moves towards his crotch, fingers reaching to cup Bucky’s balls right where the seam of his pants is threatening to burst open from how fucking hard he is.  “Can you blame me, Steve? It’s been so fucking  _ long. _ ”

“And you need claiming again, don’t you?”  Steve dips his head and nips along Bucky’s jaw, fingers curling around as much of Bucky’s junk as he can get to.  “I know you do, Buck, I need it too. Need to feel like… fuck, like I’m home again.”

Bucky can hear the emotion competing with the insane need for physical contact in Steve’s voice, and both of them are too fucking addled to handle either one of those things right now.  “You are home, Steve, just… we need to go. Soon, before we get arrested.”

Steve nods and lets him go, and then takes the keys Bucky had been trying to get out of his pocket.  “Think I can have us home in ten minutes?”

Bucky knows he’s going to try, so all he can do is tighten his seatbelt and not distract Steve while he drives.

He  _ mostly  _ succeeds.

___

 

Crashing through the front door of their apartment with Steve bearing down on him is enough to jog lose a hundred thousand different sensations and gestures, remembered through the haze of time, from the first night they spent here together up to the last time Bucky had to take Steve back to the airport - any time he comes through that door with Steve in tow makes Bucky’s heart do flips.  Steve’s tearing at his clothes before they even have the door locked behind them, and alright, Bucky’s desperate too, but he isn’t so great at sewing buttons back on and these pants are still new enough that he can get away without buying more until the start of next school year.

“Christ, Bucky, you…”  Steve has them backed against the doorway to their kitchen, one massive hand keeping Bucky’s straining arms pinned above his head while he bites teethmarks into the cotton at Bucky’s collarbone.  Theoretically Bucky knows it’s because he’s two buttons away from showing a whole lot of cleavage but Steve’s brain has apparently skipped past the whole getting naked thing to just… really vivid imagination.  Fuck, for once in their lives Bucky needs Steve to get  _ off. _

“Are gonna be pissed if you end up making me having to hunt for the buttons later.”  Bucky grins and gets away from Steve, kicking off his Oxfords and getting his shirt unbuttoned in record time.  “And keep the dog tags on, gunnie.”

Steve growls and comes for him, tackling him and keeping daylight between the soles of Bucky’s feet and the floor until they’re rolling around on the bed Bucky’s been waiting to share again for nine long fucking months, shedding the rest of their clothes as they can until Bucky’s down to just his watch and Steve’s pulled to his lips via Bucky’s fingers keeping a tight hold on his dog tags, hips slotted together and rocking back and forth, very, very slowly against each other.

Time honestly feels like it’s standing still, just for them, and Bucky’s going to take advantage of that.  Now that he’s got Steve naked - and better yet on  _ fucking top of him -  _ he truly doesn’t know where to start.  His whole body is singing with the solid, reassuring weight of Steve’s Army-cut body against his own, the soft tickle of his chest and belly hair as it snags and catches with the generous dusting Bucky has making him squirm and leak more precome than he knew he was capable of producing.

Steve’s the one who manages to put effort towards action, and Bucky gasps around Steve’s tongue as he feels him line their cocks up and stroke.  A plan starts to formulate in the recesses of Bucky’s mind in spite of the hot, spine-tingling drag of Steve’s big, thick dick against his, slicked up with nothing more than the precome that’s been practically gushing from them both since they left the airport.

“Missed, this, Bucky, missed  _ you. _ ”  Steve’s not really pulling away to say these words, so Bucky feels more than hears them.  Somewhere around the twentieth slide of their shafts against each other, Bucky wraps his legs around Steve’s waist and pulls him deeper into his mouth.  When they hit forty, Steve gets Bucky’s hair disentangled from its loose bun and tosses the hairband away so that he can get his fingers into Bucky’s hair, tugging and pulling and doing his damndest to meld them together.

Bucky’s brain manages to leap towards the next thing he wants - or at leasts  _ thinks  _ he does - and transmits the thought via a groan that he hopes means more than “I’m so fucking horny I could skin myself alive.”  Steve pulls his tongue out of Bucky’s mouth and looks down at him, those stupidly pink lips kiss-swollen and slick with saliva. 

“On your back, Steve.”  Bucky’s frankly amazed he can string those four words together, but Steve does as he’s told, rolling them so that he’s lying on the pillow Bucky covered with one of his t-shirts and Bucky finally,  _ finally  _ gets the chance to look at him properly.

Unlike so many guys in the army, Steve doesn’t have a single tattoo on his body.  The only things that mark his skin underneath all the delicious fuzz are scars that Bucky’s always wanted to ask about but would never pressure Steve to talk about, and there are definitely some that he didn’t have last time.  Bucky dips his head and kisses each one slowly, a reassurance that Steve is still here and alive. Steve groans, and Bucky moves to his left nipple, flicking it with his tongue as he tangles the chain of Steve’s dogtags in his right hand.  He doesn’t pull, simply keeping himself anchored while he starts to drink his never ending fill, biting and licking and pulling until Steve’s growling at him through clenched teeth - only for Bucky to go and do the same thing to the right.

“Fuck, Bucky, c’mon, been… fuck,  _ fuck that feels so fuckin’ good, babe -  _ been wantin’ that mouth for ever now.”  Steve’s trying his hardest to keep still and let Bucky work but Bucky’s got to push him more first - Steve only truly lets go when he feels like he’s got permission from Bucky.

Which as far as Bucky’s concerned, he really doesn’t need.  Taking the hardest, roughest sex that Steve can give him is something Bucky actively looks forward to.

He licks down the center of Steve’s chest, leaving a trail of spit matting his chest hair, licking over and through each of his abdominal muscles, rubbing his lips over the hair covering them.  He huffs warm breaths over Steve’s hip bones, biting both sharp juts and pulling an even lower, more threatening moan from Steve.

“You know I like taking my time with you, Steve.”  Bucky’s just as desperate for it as he is, but goddammit, he’s got to make this fucking count, because yeah, ten days is longer than normal but it’s still finite, still barely a drop in the seemingly infinite span of time before they’ll get to see each other again.

It  _ has  _ to be made to count.

Steve nods, reaching towards Bucky and pulling him in for another long, deep kiss, one that makes Bucky desperately wish there were two of him so that he could have his mouth in both places at once.  He reaches between Steve’s legs and curls his fingers around his shaft, jerking slowly. He lets the kiss draw out more, until his fingers are coated with Steve’s precome and Steve is getting a lot more handsy, reach down to cup and knead Bucky’s ass in between groping his tits.

“Know what you want, Steve.”  Bucky breaks the kiss and pushes Steve back down to the bed, kissing down the center line of Steve’s body.  “Been waiting a long damn time for this too.” Bucky’s nearly hanging off the mattress as he points Steve’s cock towards his face and licks his lips, drooling spit over the head and letting it drip down his length.

Steve puts his hand on the top of Bucky’s head and pushes Bucky’s mouth down onto his cock, gravity and the almost gentle pressure making him slide right down Bucky’s throat.  Steve has exactly the sort of cock you’d want a hot army boy to have - long, fill-you-up-and-leave-you-sore-after thick, and perfectly circumcised, the sort of cock that belongs in any and every sweaty, armed services-themed porno you could ever think of.  Bucky hums as his nose touches Steve’s pubes, untrimmed and springy. They aren’t quite as light as the sandy blonde locks on Steve’s head but that’s okay - only Bucky knows what color they are up close.

When Steve moans and shudders as Bucky fondles his balls, he knows that they’re both  _ exactly  _ where they want to be.

Bucky goes low and slow, letting Steve’s girth work his jaw and throat open, bobbing his head up and down, letting his tongue slip and play over velvet-soft skin, re-familiarizing himself with the feel of Steve in his mouth.  Sucking Steve’s dick is the sort of challenge Bucky lives for, working up so much spit that it lets Steve glide in and out of his mouth as he pistons his hips upwards, his fingers gripping Bucky by the hair. Bucky lets himself go in it, channeling everything he’s got into being what  _ Steve  _ needs, right now.

Steve takes his mouth over and over again, not stopping until he’s shaking, so fucking worked up that Bucky tasted more than one drop of come leak out and slide down his throat.  They’ve both got stamina, sure, but even that’s a lot for just foreplay, and Bucky’s been trying hard to keep his hands from between his legs, either playing with Steve’s balls or rubbing those unfairly sculpted thighs.

Before Bucky can make a decision either way, Steve comes out of his blowjob-induced haze and and hauls Bucky up the bed, flipping them so that Bucky’s hands are once again pinned above his head, one each of Steve’s hands around his wrists.  He stays splayed over Bucky, the tip of his cock nudging Bucky’s balls as he licks the taste of himself from Bucky’s mouth, humming and grunting and making all of the sounds Bucky’s long since come to associate with Steve being in a good place.  He spreads his legs and hooks his feet around Steve’s thighs, surprised at his own flexibility. Steve lets the kiss go with a final bite at Bucky’s lower lip before he drags Bucky towards the edge of the bed and gets down on his knees.

“Hold your legs apart,” Steve softly commands.  Bucky pulls his knees towards his chest and leans his head back, getting comfortable with just how fucking exposed he is right now.  Steve nuzzles his balls and brings his cock towards him, licking up the bottom of his shaft until he’s dancing the tip of his tongue around his still-intact frenulum (Bucky got lucky in that he got to keep at least that.)  Bucky’s going down the rabbit hole, chasing that fleeting, aggravatingly light touch-

The hard, rough pad of Steve’s left thumb rubbing against his hole brings him screaming back.

Bucky hisses through his teeth, jolted by the double sensation of Steve’s mouth swallowing the head of his cock and his thumb pressing in.  “Fuck, Steve, warn a guy.” Bucky’s not able to come up with more than that, and gets his hands behind his knees. He pulls them nearly to his chin, his lower back nearly lifted clear of the bed.  

           “Fuck, Bucky, your fuckin’  _ hole.”   _ Steve lets go of Bucky’s cock and puts his hands on Bucky’s ass cheeks, pulling him even further apart.  He wants to look down at Steve, see the eager anticipation on his face - but all he sees is his kneecaps, because Steve’s got him bunched up and bent exactly how he wants him and truth be told, Bucky doesn’t want to de-contort right now anyway.  It’s almost better, not being able to see Steve and just let himself be overtaken by the physical. His body is starting to ache, mixed up with the rough, slow drag of Steve’s stubbled jaw over his perineum and buttocks - teasing Bucky the same way Bucky did to him a moment ago.

Steve laps at his balls, taking each one in turn into his mouth as he rubs his index and middle fingers over Bucky’s hole, wetting it with the spit dripping down from his mouth.  Bucky closes his eyes, trying not to squirm against the wetness. Steve hums, the vibrations going right through Bucky and making his cock stiffen even more. It’s pressed flat against his stomach, coating his abs and navel with precome.  

“I know you didn’t travel eight thousand miles just to tease me, Steve.”  Bucky grits his teeth against the sudden, lightning-quick intrusion of Steve’s finger into his hole, just the tip, testing Bucky a little further.  “If you’re… God, Steve, come  _ on -  _ if you’re worried about me loosening up without you I promise it’s just as  _ tightaseverholyshit-” _

Steve’s replaced his finger with his tongue, and it’s enough to shut Bucky’s brain almost completely down.  Steve doesn’t hold himself back, and Bucky’s resolve to not come before Steve’s inside him slips that much further.  He wants that, Christ he does, but it’s been so fucking  _ long  _ and he knows damn well that the second Steve is all the way in, he’s going to struggle to stay there with him at that plateau.  He doesn’t even have a hand on himself and he’s already throbbing,  _ aching,  _ wanting to kiss and fuck and get lost in Steve’s touch, so that he doesn’t have to think about a fucking thing except that, being there with his fucking  _ soulmate  _ in that mutual state of mind.

Huh.  Soulmate.  Bucky files that one away for further contemplation, and blinks against the sweat now steadily dripping into his eyes.  Steve’s tongue is cutting off his ability to say much more than “fuck” and “so goddamn good” and “more, Steve,  _ please _ ” - but mostly all he’s got are a never ending string of moans that get louder every time Steve’s mouth finds its way back up to his balls.  His heart’s doing slow, loud beats in his ears, his memory of what the hell he’d been doing before now when he’d gotten up this morning  _ gone. _

Steve interrupts the spell and comes for him, pulling him into a kiss that leaves Bucky completely useless for anything else save for pushing his hips against Steve’s, hoping like hell that it’s enough of an indicator as to what he wants. 

Thank God it doesn’t seem like time and distance have silenced Steve’s non-verbal communication, and he does slow up enough to let Bucky go and find the lube.

Bucky finally finds his voice again and takes the lube from Steve.  “As much as I’d love to let you do this, I know you like to take your time - and I’m out of patience, Steve.”  Bucky slicks three fingers up fast and shoves two in, his hips bucking forward. “And yes, I’m desperate. Congratulations, you’ve rendered me useless for the rest of the day.”  Bucky shoves the thoughts of the dissertation work he’s supposed to do later away - that thing’s been tweaked and tuned and eviscerated so many times now that Bucky could recite it in his sleep.

“I like you desperate.”  Steve grabs Bucky’s calves and pulls him back to the edge of the bed, shoving a pillow under his ass to give him better elevation.  “Such a nice change from Hot Professor Barnes.” Steve’s focus is torn between watching Bucky’s fingers slide in and out of himself and his face, completely unable to mask the sensations he’s making himself experience.  Bucky tries hard to stay away from his prostate but it seems like on every other thrust, he hits it, making his whole body tense up against the rising wave of climax.

“I have  _ plenty  _ of evidence that you’re into that look.”  Bucky works in that third fingers and Christ, it’s getting to be way too much.  “That classroom in the Sullivan building still has stains in the carpet.”

“They never got them out?”

Bucky shakes his head, remembering the first semester he had to teach a night class and one night after they dismissed, Steve surprised him after six months of almost no communication and had fucked him right there in the back row of seats.

“If I’d have come any harder they’d be replacing the drywall too.”  Bucky has to stop himself, pulling his fingers out and then slathering his hole with even more lube, trusting Steve to coat himself sufficiently.

“Think maybe we ought to go back and give it a try anyway.”  Steve leans down and kisses Bucky on the mouth as he lines himself up, the thick, flared head of his cock rubbing enticingly against Bucky’s hole.  Bucky can  _ feel  _ how loosened up he is, like he’s in heat and it’s some sort of natural process that’s gotten him there.

“Given that the university is providing my livelihood right now, I think maybe we should work on that  _ after  _ I’m Dr. Barnes.”

“Dr. Rogers has a nice ring to it too.”

The name  _ James Buchanan Rogers  _ flies through Bucky’s mind like a rocket streaking across a clear sky, so bright and vivid that he’s coming before he has the chance to stop himself.  He bites and licks at Steve’s mouth as he shudders through an orgasm, his cock pulsing thick, white pearls of come all over his lower chest and stomach.

That he’s still rock fucking hard when he’s finished is the strongest possible indicator that yes, he absolutely, one hundred percent wants that - someday.  Just that right now while emotions are high, it got to him a little more deeply than normal.

“You can’t fucking do that, Steve.”  Bucky’s honestly surprised that he’s tearing up again, between the insane overload of endorphins overworking his system and the pent-up desire from months of Steve’s absence.  “God, that’s…”

“A goal?  Yeah, Buck, it is.”  Steve’s features soften as he kisses Bucky again, taking his time with sliding his cock home and then letting out this sweet, completely involuntary little sigh as he bottoms out.

“Why don’t we worry about that later?”  Bucky’s voice is robbed of about all of its power, finally filled up with Steve’s cock, and so soon on the tail end of an orgasm he was trying to stave off.  “Right now…”

“Right now I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your own fucking name, Buck.”

Bucky has  _ no  _ doubt that he’s going to do precisely that, and like hell if Bucky’s not going to enjoy every fucking second of it.

It’s gratifying to see Steve falter just for a second, like he’s just now realizing that yeah, it absolutely is real and Bucky’s not going anywhere, he really is in their apartment and not… over there.  For just a split second there’s this look of deep and profound thanks in his eyes, one that makes Bucky’s throat threaten to close up with emotion. Steve’s mouth falls open like he’s about to say something, but Bucky shakes his head, just once - it can wait.

Steve scoops up some of Bucky’s come, pulls his cock halfway out to spread it around Bucky’s hole, and then  _ slams  _ back into him.  The only thing that keeps Bucky from sliding backwards is Steve’s iron grip on his knees, keeping his body angled so that Bucky feels every thick inch.

“Yeah, Bucky, take my fuckin’ cock.”  Steve’s hips start to find the right rhythm, dogtags jangling against his hairy chest with the motion of his body.  “God, swear your hole got even tighter baby, just… fuck, feels so fuckin’ good.” Steve tips his head back and closes his eyes, letting his downstairs brain take over, a vision of pleasure so beautiful that it puts anything Bernini ever sculpted to shame.  Bucky’s mouth won’t shut, completely incapable of containing the moans now steadily spilling out of him. Any lethargy he might have been feeling from his orgasm a few minutes ago is gone. Everything’s ten times as sensitive now, like his skin is a little too tight for his body.

Bucky groans as Steve shifts his grip and cants his hips up ever so slightly, the end of his cock grinding into Bucky’s prostate as he circles his hips.  “Christ, Steve, where the hell’d you learn that?”

Steve just chuckles and leans down to smash their lips together, kissing Bucky hungrily.  Bucky feels his brain go completely offline, replace with warm, static fuzz. He gets a hold of Steve’s dog tags and keeps him there, tongue sliding against Steve’s as he rides each cresting wave of pleasure, Steve changing it up with long, slow strokes that make Bucky feel slightly drunk.  He’s rendered useless, perfectly content with being Steve’s human Fleshjack, lulled into this headspace where not a single other thing matters right now.

“Don’t think this is gonna be it tonight, Buck.”  Steve picks up the pace again, mouth still right against Bucky’s.  “Have had months to think about all the ways I’m gonna make you scream.”  Steve’s voice sends shivers racing up his spine, hanging onto his every word.  “I’ve got plans for you, babe, ones that involve you on your hands and knees.” Steve kisses him, and Bucky’s heart starts to beat a whole lot faster.  “Or on your back - however you want it.”

The logical, ordered part of Bucky wants to counterargue that he’s got a test to write and a thesis to work on, classwork to complete - but logical Bucky isn’t home right now, hung out to dry while cock hungry, slut-on-his-knees Bucky takes the wheel.  A flash fire of visions whirls over his mind’s eye, all of them involving his holes open and his body drenched in sweat or… whatever. 

“I’m pretty easy to persuade.”  Bucky grins and bears his throat, actively wanting Steve to mark him up so that when he delivers his beginning lecture on  _ The Idiot  _ tomorrow he can do it with hickies blossoming on his throat.  It’s not like he’s got a whole lot of seniority over his students to start with and that yes, Professor Barnes does indeed get laid -  _ hard.   _ Not often, but Bucky’s always been a quality over quantity sort of guy.

“I know you are, Buck.”  Steve sucks a mark into the column of his throat and keeps talking, each and every sweet syllable making Bucky’s dick leak even more.  “Love it when you turn into a complete and total cock slut for me.” Another bite to his collarbone, and Bucky’s second orgasm starts to become a tangible thing.  “Desperate,  _ begging. _ ”

Bucky’s this close to completely gone, Steve’s dick feeling like the end of it is somewhere in his guts.  “Can… Christ, Steve, can you fucking blame me?” He’d love Steve to pieces even if he wasn’t so well endowed but hell, Bucky will gladly confess that he’s a little bit of a size queen and after getting the royal fucking treatment like this, it can’t really be helped.  

Steve buries a groan in Bucky’s chest, his hips speeding up as his own climax starts to draw near.  “Gonna fill you up, Bucky - haven’t come in a fuckin’ week, didn’t… didn’t have the chance.” 

“Do it, Steve, breed me.”  Bucky gets to his mouth and bites his lip, making Steve yelp.  “Fill me the fuck up with that thick fucking load.” It’s too fucking hot in here, and if there isn’t a mark shaped like himself in the mattress after they’re done, he’ll be extremely surprised.  “Knock me the fuck up and leave me dripping.”

Steve comes with a broken roar, face tilted toward the ceiling as he slams his orgasm into Bucky, a warm, sudden rush that the second he feels it, pushes Bucky over the edge too, gripping Steve’s shoulders like his life depends on it.  It’s like immolation, except it’s from the inside out and Bucky has to make a conscious effort not to cry because it feels so fucking  _ good,  _ like he’s finally able to breathe comfortably after months of worry.

The second he’s finished Steve picks him up and pulls him to his body, kissing him like a man dying of thirst and Bucky’s the only oasis for a thousand miles.  He can’t decided whether or not he can pick him up so Bucky ends up - very unsteadily - on his knees. It’s not so much as a kiss as a capstone, the acknowledgement that for now at least they’re both satisfied, that they can take a few minutes to just  _ live. _

“Shower,” Steve huffs, and Bucky does indeed end up getting carried towards the bathroom.  Theoretically he could walk but Bucky doesn’t trust his legs enough right now to actually make that happen, so he’ll gladly let Steve do the heavy lifting.

Considering that Bucky’s currently up to one hundred and eighty four pounds of solid muscle, that’s no small feat.

Steve dials up the temperature to near scalding and lets Bucky go back first into it, standing underneath the high pressure spray as he rubs down Bucky’s back and ass, effectively turning Bucky’s knees to jelly.

“I forgot to say it earlier but welcome the  _ fuck  _ home, Steve.”  Bucky manages a smile and runs his fingers through Steve’s fuzzy, close cropped hair, surprised at how soft it is.  “I think you’re uh… I don’t even know what to say, Steve, you’ve got me tongue-tied.”

“Never needed too many words before, did we?”  Steve’s gaze is so overtly fond that it makes Bucky’s stomach do a slow roll, swearing that he’s never seen anything more crushingly heartening in his life.  “Unless something’s changed.”

Bucky shakes his head, caressing Steve’s jaw.  “Course not, babe, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”  Bucky’s deadly serious, knowing full well that if the situation were reversed, Steve would do the same for him.  “Til the end of the line.”

Steve smiles against his lips and murmurs back “til the end of the line.”  Bucky melts into another kiss and for a long while, they just stand there, stoking the low-burning fire of arousal that’s somehow still going, deep in Bucky’s gut.  He reaches for Steve’s mostly soft cock and pulls at it, letting Steve’s mouth go enough to where he can speak softly but clearly.

“Something I want you to do for me, Steve.”  Bucky’s trying to outrun the counterargument in his mind, figuring that this is only going to work while he’s still crazy horny and this particular sin can be quickly washed away.

“Yeah?”  Steve manages to impart a whole lot of understanding in that syllable, and Bucky silently thanks whatever god that might be out there that he managed to land such a perceptive boyfriend.  Definitely  _ not  _ some brainless grunt.

“Yeah.”

Steve nods and gets close enough to overlay his cock with Bucky’s, gently stroking them both.  It doesn’t take long before Bucky feels it, the warm, steady stream that has nothing to do with the showerhead pounding water down his back.  Steve sags with relief against him, groaning as he pisses all over Bucky’s stomach and cock, sending off every dirty-bad-wrong alarm bell in Bucky’s head - only they aren’t quite loud enough to make Bucky shut it down, to tell Steve to stop.

“Mine,” Steve whispers, and Bucky’s cock aches sharply with the effort of trying to get hard again.  “Fucking  _ mine. _ ”

“Fucking right I am, Steve, all yours.”  

In that particular moment, that statement has never once been truer.

And goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t want  _ more. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was going to put these two scenes ahead of the gang bang proper, but Bucky needs the lull in action as much as I do - and I want that part to be uncluttered by interludes - thus, we are here. Not to worry, the nasty nastiness is coming soon as of this writing, but ya boy has real life to deal with. How dare my job get in the way of writing Bucky Barnes getting his ass slammed in such grand fashion.

The last five days have been some of the most achingly sweet of Bucky’s entire life.  Every morning he’s awakened refreshed in both body and soul, so well fucked and loved (in that order) that he feels damn near  _ invincible.   _ His students have definitely noticed too, engaging him in the debates that he’s constantly trying to touch off in class just so that he becomes that much more animated.  He can’t figure out if it helps or hurts that Steve’s been sitting in on every class and not only paying attention but taking notes as well and doing his absolute best to keep his eyes on Bucky’s face and not his ass when he turns around to write something on the board.

Most of the students that Bucky teaches are four or five years after the rest of their graduating class had moved on, so not everyone knows who the hot, broad shouldered guy with the buzz cut and sweet grin is in the back of the class - but Bucky’s mentioned Steve enough that it isn’t long before more and more eyes are on both of them.  Steve, being the stand up sort of guy he is, would never do anything to disrupt Bucky’s class, no matter how close they are. He understands that this is what Bucky wants to do, where he wants to be -

But dammit, if Steve cuts him dirty looks on the sly like he’s been doing, then every single one of his students may just find out how good his deepthroating skills are, because that’s about as much restraint as Bucky has when Steve’s around.  They’re going to spend as much time together as they possibly can, even while Bucky’s working.

When they hit the weekend and finally have uninterrupted time together, Bucky manages to get Steve out of the apartment for a few hours, just to see their friends (and give himself a break from constantly lusting after Steve’s body.)  It isn’t completely fair that Bucky should monopolize all of that time but dammit, Bucky’s the one who has to suffer the most from absence. Bruce and Tony have unrestricted access to each other (they’re halfway to married as it is) and Natasha and Clint are a foregone conclusion, even if they swear they’re “just friends.”

So it isn’t all that surprising when Bucky drags Steve back home and rides him stupid, leaving both of them gasping and pulling for breath with prostates as dry as the Sahara.  Steve actually passes out for a bit, and Bucky takes the chance to let his body rest and make them a late, late supper.

Bucky’s stirring potatoes in the saucepan when Steve comes into the kitchen, smelling like a fresh spring day as he wraps his arms around Bucky from behind at the stove.

“Is that all the potatoes we have?”  Steve kisses him behind the ear and Bucky shies away, still buzzing from that last orgasm.  “If not, I can go get more.”

“Your attempt to make up the deficit in grocery runs is adorable but I think this will be plenty.”  Bucky turns his head and kisses Steve as chastely as possible before Steve moves to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator.  Bucky takes the chance to ogle his back, seeing that Steve’s clad in nothing but his dogtags (it’s kind of infuriatingly hot that he never takes them off) and a tight pair of black boxer briefs that hug his ass so well that they look like they’ve been painted on.  Bucky finds himself drooling and turns back to their supper, adding a little more pepper to the potatoes.

“Can’t say I didn’t offer.”  Steve props himself next to Bucky at the counter, watching him cook while he sips his water.  “Thought for sure you’d be boiling instead of frying them, Buck.”

“Well I don’t see why we can’t indulge a little more than usual.  Not every week you come home and let me take care of you.” Bucky offers him one of the first pieces to be done, and Steve eats it gratefully.

“You don’t have to do that, Buck.”  

Bucky shrugs, checking on the beef tips he’s got going on the back burner.  “I like having you around, Steve, and if I get to do this…”

“Maybe it feels a little more like real life?”

Bucky just nods, and tries not to think about the fact that he had better enjoy this as much as possible.  Steve lets him have his silence for a little longer before he comes in from behind and starts kissing Bucky’s neck again.

“Steve, seriously, you gotta let me eat first or I’m not gonna have anything to give.”  Bucky laughs as Steve’s stubble - which is now full on scruff - tickles him right at the base of his hairline where he’s got it pulled up.

“Well maybe you’ll change your tune after I’m done.”  Steve kisses up on him a little more and slides his hand down the front of Bucky’s gym shorts and alright, even though there isn’t much left to come out of Bucky’s body after all the fucking they’ve been doing, there still is a fair amount of comfort to be had in the warm, engulfing feeling of Steve’s hand around his junk.

“Is this one of those things I need to be sitting down for?”

Steve doesn’t answer, just gently strokes Bucky’s dick and pulls him a little closer.  “You remember a conversation we had last time I was home, about certain fantasies?”

It’s been a while, but whispers of that conversation come back to Bucky in pieces.  In his defense, they had both just smoked an entire bowl and fucked slow and deep before it.  That part Bucky  _ does  _ remember.

“Might have to refresh me.”

“Remember you saying something about wanting to be used.”  Steve kisses his bare shoulder and cups his balls, his voice taking on a pitch that Bucky can’t help but pay close attention to.  “Done my best to do that for you while I’ve been home, babe, but… I think there’s a way for you to get the most out of that fantasy.”

Bucky swallows, unsure of just what it is Steve’s working on proposing to him.  “How d’you figure?”

“You know I love you, right Bucky?  And there’s not a damn thing I wouldn’t do to make sure you get what you need.”  His voice is almost hypnotic, and Bucky feels himself falling under the spell  _ fast. _

“I do, Steve, and I have everything I need, right fuckin’ here.”  His heart is starting to beat a little too fast but dammit, he wants to hear this.

“I know, baby - but listen.  Been looking through some of your browsing history and well, can’t ignore evidence like that, Buck.”  Steve gets closer - if it’s possible - and puts his mouth right to Bucky’s ear.

“I know you want to get fucked raw and hard, be used and passed around like a good little slut.  Can see it in your eyes when I’m balls deep in you, Buck, how much you love taking my cock.” Steve’s stroking him flat out now, Bucky’s cock rock fucking hard in his shorts.  “Want to give you all I can, swear I do - but I’m only one person.”

“Steve…”

“Not done yet, Buck.  All those gangbangs you like to watch?  Shit, Bucky, I want to make that happen for you.  Want to see you fucked and used and leaking from every fuckin’ hole you’ve got.”

Bucky’s reply comes out as a small, arousal-choke squeak, and it’s only the burning smell of potatoes that jars him back from the hole his mind was starting to travel down.  “I… Steve, I think that’s… that’s a lot.”

“I know it is Bucky but… you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”  Steve’s not going to let this go, and fuck, it  _ does  _ sound hot, to be the sloppy seconds and thirds for someone, maybe even fourths.  “And I’ve got four buddies in the States right now who could make that happen, Buck.  Can he here in two days and let me tell you, they’d all fill you up so fuckin’ good that you couldn’t walk for a week.”

Bucky already knows he’s going to accept - but tries to measure his response as carefully as he can.  “ _ Good  _ buddies?”

“Would trust all of ‘em with my life, Buck, I swear.”  Steve moves his hands up over Bucky’s body, soothing him as Bucky moves on with dinner.  “And they wouldn’t kiss and tell either, would just stay between us.”

“And you wouldn’t be mad seeing me with someone else?”

“Hell no, Bucky - I want to fucking  _ watch. _  Has to be something said for being in the audience, right?”

Bucky turns it over in his mind for a couple more minutes, sinking into the heat of Steve’s body behind him.  “There’d have to be rules.”

“Anything you want, Buck.”

“They all have to be clean, for one thing.  Gone this long without an infection and I don’t want to start now.  Secondly, they have to be respectful - if I get a bad vibe from any of them, I get to say no.”

Steve nods, squeezing Bucky a little more tightly.  “Absolutely, baby.”

“And third - you have to stay until they’ve all finished, because I want you to be the one to make me come, Steve.  No one else gets that privilege.” Bucky doesn’t leave room for argument, and Steve doesn’t even begin to look like he’s going to raise one.

“I can do that Buck, one hundred percent.  Gonna feel so good to slide into your come-sloppy ass,  _ fuck. _ ”

Bucky can practically  _ hear  _ Steve get turned on and while it’s not the finest handjob he’s ever given, getting Steve’s body to wrack with ecstasy one more time isn’t something Bucky’s ever going to pass the chance up to do.

And getting to service a whole bunch of hot, horny Army hunks?

Yeah, Bucky can  _ definitely  _ live with that.

 

___

 

Steve’s two day estimate for this friends’ arrival was actually lowballing it, and Bucky chalks that up to a joint mix of desperation ( _ Army guys will never turn down the chance for good sex, Buck, no matter how hard they have to work to get it)  _ and efficiency, because when Bucky walks out of his last class of the day the following Monday (leaving him with roughly four days left before Steve has to go) there are four muscle-bound, grinning Army corporals waiting outside his classroom with Steve, dressed in street clothes.

That Bucky feels just a little bit like chum in the water shouldn’t come as all that surprising of a feeling.  Only Steve touches (and the possessive arm around his shoulders is sweet, Bucky has to admit) but he can feel their eyes on him, checking out his ass in the deliberately tight khakis he’d worn that day, knowing damn well they hug the thighs he’s worked so hard over the last year to beef up.  He’s used (and still feels ridiculously lucky) to having Steve’s lustful gaze turned on him but to be the center of attention like this, well… it feels  _ nice. _

“Figure I should introduce you to these guys,” Steve says as they’re drawing close to their apartment.  He spins Bucky around and gestures to each one. “Emilio De La Rosa,” (gorgeous, Latinx, chocolate brown eyes that make Bucky’s heart pound with affection - no, seriously), “his boyfriend Elliott King” (the more blond, skinnier version of Steve except with green eyes and a grin that swears he is absolutely up to no good), “Daniel Masterson” (tall, salt and pepper, a little older than the rest of them with a mouth that looks like it’s ready to commit every conceivable sin in the world) and finally “Easton Walker” (brown hair, with high school prom king good looks and a hungry look in his eyes that Bucky already knows means he’s going to get to go first - that’s not a bad thing to decide already, is it?)

Bucky shakes hands in turn with each of them, lingering a bit to build a little more intimacy with them.  “Steve tells me that you all are my type, apparently.”

Emilio shrugs, the faintest hint of a deviant smile quirking his lips.  “Steve tells us that you’re  _ our  _ type.”

“Oh?”

Steve grins and kisses his shoulder.  “Just that you’re kind of a cock slut, is all, nothing personal.”  Steve, for his part, seems absolutely overjoyed that they’re currently in this situation and alright, Bucky’s burning with curiosity to see what it’s like, his mind half-focused during his classes earlier on just what exactly’s going to go down tonight.  He keeps waiting for his heart to disagree with his body on this, that this is somehow going to ruin things between him and Steve when it’s over - but that feeling just isn’t there, not with the way Bucky can  _ feel  _ the eager feeling rolling off of Steve.

“Well, Steve isn’t wrong - listen guys, why don’t you all go grab a bite to eat, check out the town, while I get myself ready, alright?  If this is going to happen how I think it’s going to happen, well… I need some time. You wanna go with ‘em Steve, show your friends around?”

_ Need time to get my head in the right place, baby. _

Steve nods and starts to herd his friends back towards restaurant row.  “We’re gonna need the energy anyway - hey Buck, got a second?”

Bucky’s swept into a deep, hot kiss before he has the chance to reply, the reminder that after all this is done he’s Steve’s, and that’s okay.  No matter how handsome and fun his friends might seem, it’s Steve he’s going to fall asleep next to.

Provided he doesn’t die from taking so much hung Army cock all at one time.  Even in Bucky’s wildest fantasies he never actually thought he would get to do that, be the center of attention and desire.  The guys over at Straight Off Base made it look easy to do but hard to make happen, and up til now Bucky had been perfectly content with just watching.  Trust Steve to help change that for him. 

The prospect already has him leaking precome, and he’d better get moving before it starts to show on the outside of his pants.  “I’ll see you soon, Steve.”

Steve squeezes him one last time and as Bucky turns away he hears him mention something about sushi.  Bucky’s stomach growls, and he picks up the pace to get himself home and start getting ready.

Once there, he quickly strips down to his boxers and makes himself a smoothie, humming to his favorite Pandora station as he purges his brain of everything except being the best fucking bottom he can be tonight.  He and Steve had tried having the roles reversed  _ once,  _ and it had been one of the most awkward sexual experiences of his life.  He’s far and away secure enough in his masculinity to be comfortable with that, and Steve certainly doesn’t seem to mind.  Would he play with Steve’s ass if he asked? Yeah, absolutely, and has done before.

But when Steve has as nice of a cock as he does, Bucky almost feels  _ obligated  _ to bottom.

The second he’s done with his smoothie he goes to the bathroom for the tedious, completely not sexy process of prepping, knowing full well he’s going to have to do an extra careful job of it tonight.  He grabs his Bluetooth speaker and tries to focus on the sounds of his favorite electro swing station instead of the cold water currently going up his ass, making the disconnect between his arousal and necessity.

By the time Bucky’s satisfied with the job he’s done, the sun is hanging low in the sky and the battery on his phone is nearly dead.  He had considered shaving his hole but his hands are shaking far too much and besides, they’re all men here - it’s not like body hair is something they haven’t seen before.  Steve wears his proudly, and only rarely does Bucky even bother with manscaping. Instead, he works himself open until he can comfortably get three fingers in and uses his favorite plug, clenching around it a couple times to make sure he’s not overdone it on the lube.

When it doesn’t pop back out, he pulls on his running shorts and goes to the living room to await Steve’s arrival, squirming with anticipation and trying as hard as he can to not rock against the plug that promises what looks like it’s going to be one  _ hell  _ of a night.


End file.
